Yes, I know it is hopelessly pathetic. Still, please, no flames. The whole thing's a metaphor, but you probably won't pick up on it. But, it isn't really necessary for you to get the metaphor, and I don't feel like spelling it out for two reasons:
1. I'm lazy.
2. Should my sister, for some odd reason, create an account and find this piece along with the explination, she'd kill me before I could say "Erik".
Constructive criticism is much loved. I always try to improve my writing. Thanks! )
The Red and the Black Rose
Two plants grow side by side,
Both carry a pretty rose,
One's roses are red,
The other's black.
The sun smiles upon the red,
Its gaudy petals large and bright,
The black stays in the corner,
Forgotten and ignored.
The red holds its head up high,
Arrogant in its beauty,
The black conceals its face,
Its beauty yet to be seen.
In the shadows the flower lays,
Unable to compete with the red,
So tall and bright,
Shinning in its glory.
But soon a hand appears,
And grabs the tall red rose,
To pluck the flower from the stem,
It sees not the small black rose,
Lying hidden and unnoticed.
Without the red the sun's gaze turns,
And smiles gently upon the black,
In its plainness it has won,
Over the oppressive red.
It raises its head in pride,
Basking in the glowing warmth,
Its inner beauty shinning bright,
Now that it stands in the light.